Breathless
by OverLordy
Summary: "Like that one time you were scoping up in a tree for game and you slipped and plummeted ten feet. When you hit the ground, all the breath rushed from your lungs. "Our male tribute for the 80th Hunger Games is... Karkat Vantas!"" AU, mentions of Alternia
1. Chapter 1

***sigh* Yes, it's been done. Twice. I just couldn't resist. You know what happens when the plot bunny comes a'knockin'.**

**Now I feel bad for not updating LAD. I only have until break is over to update my shit. (I was in Washington for the past week, leave me alone. **

**;~;) But I'll try. Don't hurt me.**

**Anyways, have fun reading. =u= *waves with KK plushie***

**This is set after Katniss, who never pulled out those berries.**

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and this is probably the shittiest you've ever felt in your thirteen years of living.

Perched among the branches in a great maple tree, you gaze sullenly at the distant horizon, spotted with leafy green trees, the early morning sun just peeking over. The worn-down buildings of District 12 looms in the distance, not dotted with the dark shapes of the depressed people wandering among the Square. No one would be out today.

You scowl heavily, narrowing vivid red eyes. Today was the day of the Reaping, a day where the Capitol can kick down the lowly districts and spit in their faces, laughing, mocking, flaunting their power by forcing one boy and one girl from each district to fight to the death. It's sick, it's cruel, but it's life. It's the Hunger Games.

You glance a ways past the ghost town that was the Square, towards the Seam, and the cluster of roach-infested, rotting, shitty shacks that are a shame to the word 'house'. But, that's where your home is, also where your sisters and your mother are waiting for you. Your eldest brother, on the other hand...

"Nithe view, KK?" calls a voice, heavy with lisp. You glance down, interrupted of your thoughts. It's hard to see through the mass of branches below.

"Oh, yes. It's a wonderful view of the shit stain on Panem's panties," you call down. Oh, you can just_ feel_ Sollux rolling his eyes at your colorful vocabulary, the asswipe.

"Stop angthting and come down, KK. Food isn't going to trade itself.'' Sollux calls. You scowl, wriggling your body, swearing under your breath and dropping down from branch to branch, until you finally hit the grassy floor below. Sollux has an annoying habit of nicknaming people with two letters of their name.

Sollux is a good head taller than you were, with the same black hair. His eyes are yellow, hidden behind red and blue glasses. You never knew why your eyes are different colors than the normal gray in this town. You never really bother to question it. On top of that, all your siblings have different last names, because you aren't really related. Your family just sort of... came together. It's honestly weird as fuck, and gives you a headache if you think too much about it.

Resting at Sollux's feet were two squirrels, and a rabbit. It's not much, but you don't have time to hunt until noon like normal. You would trade at the Hob, the Black Market of District 12, before the Reaping.

"Don't look tho down, KK, today ith a day of thelebration after all," Sollux mocks in a shit-tastic rip-off of the Capitol accent, which is only made more annoying by his lisp. You frown at him.

"Right, fucking celebration. I'm fucking overcome with immeasurable joy and excitement. And the urge to barf." you grumble. Sollux cracks a laugh.

"Let'th jutht go before the thtupid Reaping thtarts and we get in trouble for thomething other than poaching," Sollux says with a smile. With the amount of times you've both hunted in your lives, there would be no big _'Holy fuck why?'_ if bullets were put through your and Sollux's heads, as you were quite infamous for poaching. But with a family of five, it was necessary for you and Sollux to put your lives on the line. Your father died in a mine accident when you were young, leaving your mother to take care of you and your siblings. Sollux was the only one who remembered him. He was a mentor figure to you.

"Have you been practithing with your thickles?" he asks. You nod. Technically, you aren't supposed to train with any weapons, but Sollux saw it as a necessity, because he trains with bows and arrows every time they go hunting. The clean shot through one of the squirrel's eyes shows that practice.

Sollux sighs grimly, picking up the two squirrels. You pick up the rabbit, and the two of you head off.

You come to the fence, separating the Seam and the woods. It's supposed to run with electricity 24/7, but it normally isn't. It's supposed to keep the large animals out of the District, but Sollux always says with a scoff that they're really trying to keep us in. You listen for the hum of electricity anyways, and it's not present.

You and Sollux wriggle your way beneath a hollow in the ground, popping out on the other side. The two of you make an immediate B-line for the Hob.

The Hob is an abandoned coal warehouse, covered in black coal dust and stinking of something musty. It's the Black Market of District 12, where hunters can trade their meat and where illegal items like weapons can be bought. This is where you got your sickles.

You always came into the Hob with Sollux, ever since you were seven years old, when he first took you out to go hunting. The two of you were rather famous there, because your father was even more famous.

"Hello, boys," says Greasy Sae, the owner of the Hob. One of the patrons, a peacekeeper named Darius, waves to you. Just goes to show how much shit the Peacekeepers give about your hunting. Absolutely none. Greasy Sae and Sollux chat, like they always do, except this talk seems dull, not as animated as it normally is. You note this with a frown.

You trade the two squirrels for a loaf of bread and a hunk of goat cheese, and you keep the rabbit to eat.

You head home in an anxious silence. It pisses you off to no extent. You want to talk, to forget what today was, to forget the impending doom upon you and your family. But, hopefully your house wouldn't have its blinds closed. Hopefully no one would be drawn.

"Sollux, what happens if one of us is called?" you ask quietly. Sollux looks down at you, as if surprised you talked.

"Don't think about it, KK. You may jinxth it," he said grimly, knocking on a wooden cart as they passed. Knock on wood. That was a stupid superstition. You voice your thoughts, giving Sollux a look that screamed 'What are you, seven?'

"It may be thtupid, but it giveth uth hope, KK," Sollux said grimly. You frown. Hope wasn't something easily come by in District 12, but Sollux always says to keep your chin up, to show the Capitol that you are unaffected by their games, that their main goal is to make you give up hope, and you shouldn't give them that satisfaction.

"But, thinthe we're the only oneth that hunt, if you're called I may take NP hunting with me," he says with a shrug. "Nothing elth would change, if you weren't called. TZ or NP would want us to stay strong." You nod, staring at the goat cheese in your hand, reflecting upon his words. You stop thinking about it as soon as you feel your eyes sting up a bit.

When you get home, you're greeted by your sisters, Terezi and Nepeta. Sollux is nineteen, Terezi's younger than Sollux by three years and blind, and Nepeta's younger than you by one and has an unhealthy obsession with cats. Today would be Nepeta's first year of the Reapings. You had to be between ages twelve and eighteen to qualify. Nepeta wanted to sign up for the tessera. Tessera is for the shit-poor people, where if you enter your name more than once you get a meager years' supply of grain and oil. You and Sollux forbade Nepeta from signing up for tessera, even though you and Terezi signed up for it. That would be enough.

Your mother smiles at you, a reassuring smile, and your family eats rabbit stew and some of the cheese and bread in silence. You don't feel very hungry, hell, you feel like you're about to fucking vomit all over, but you eat anyways.

After eating, everyone dresses nicely, but your mother pulls you and your sisters to the side to make you look nice for the Reaping. Terezi is dressed in a teal dress that comes down to her thighs, a grin on her face, her red glasses obscuring her unseeing eyes, which are the same color as her dress. Nepeta is dressed in a blue dress, one that was poofy at the sleeves.

"I look pawsitively adorable!" Nepeta exclaims, giggling as Terezi sniffs at her dress with a mischievous grin.

"You smell like flowers," Terezi points out with a grin. You roll your eyes at her. God, your siblings were annoying.

Your mother works on making you look spic-and-span, because if you're going to look like shit, you have to look at least like presentable shit at the Reapings. She hands you a vibrant red shirt, with dark pants, and you're disappointed to see that you look good in them. You despise the color red. You shudder, remembering your nightmares, the walls dripping with red, clawed hands reaching for you, tearing at your skin, spilling red, red, red-

You snap out of your dwellings, feeling sick, as your mother says your name wearily. You look at her, sighing. You examine yourself in the mirror as she attempts to make your tousled hair stay neat. You examine your skin, pale, like your family's. You are very slender, due to many missed meals, but you aren't bone skinny. You are very limber, flexible, not stocky like Terezi and Sollux. Your vibrant candy-red eyes are rimmed with dark bags, due to many nights without sleep. You kept your insomnia hidden up to age ten, until Sollux found out and you were forced to share a bed with him. It's embarrassing, but it works. You don't have many nightmares anymore.

Your mother releases you from her hold, giving up with trying to tame your hair. Sollux smirks at you, and you retort with your middle finger.

When it comes time for the Reapings, you and your family hobble on over to the Square, where the Reapings take place. As you walk towards the large group, Nepeta grabs your hand and looks up at you. She looks like she's about to be sick, her wide emerald eyes staring at you fearfully. You feel the same, but you have to look out for her, be strong. Normally she annoys you to no extent, on any other day you would wrench your hand away and say you were too old to hold hands, but you end up giving her hand an assuring squeeze in return, before you break off to stand with your age group.

You spot Terezi, and she turns her head towards you, waving with her cane. It kinda unsettles you, how she can sense you without her eyesight, but you wave back, and turn forwards.

The Mayor Undersee comes up, accompanied by Effie Trinket. Effie is sporting a flamboyant pink wig and a big grin that makes you sick to your fucking stomach. The stupid Capitol accent she speaks in only makes it worse. You find yourself growling under your breath, and immediately stop yourself.

You wrinkle your nose at her, only barely listening as they play the national anthem, and the mayor reads off the history of Panem, how the Districts rebelled against the Capitol and lost, and in return the Districts must submit one boy and one girl to fight to the death, this is the 80th annual Hunger Games, blah blah blah. You hear it all the time in school, and you don't really give two flying fucks.

And up comes the Victors. They live over in Victors' Village, where the houses are so big that they could fit five of your tiny-ass houses in there.

Haymitch Abernathy is drunk, as always, and he does this weird little wave-thing and throws one arm around Katniss Everdeen, who looks like she's ready to punch him. The Victors are well-respected in District 12, even though Haymitch is a bit of a joke.

"And, let the Reapings begin! Ladies first," calls Effie, with another sickening grin, as she dips her hand into the giant glass bowl filled with little slips of paper that hold the names of all the girls in the district. In there are 40 slips of paper with the name Terezi Pyrope on it, and one with Nepeta Leijon on it. You wince, feeling your stomach writhe like a fish out of water. You cross your fingers. _Please not my sisters, fuck, not Nepeta, Terezi has no chance, she's blind. Oh god, not them, please please please-_

"Our female tribute, for the 80th Annual Hunger Games is..." Effie pulls out a slip of paper. You hold your breath.

"Vriska Serket!" you exhale, watching the dark haired girl stalk haughtily up to the stage, where two Peace Keepers lead her into the Justice Building. You've passed her once or twice in school, but you don't like her much. She's blind in one eye, apparently.

"Let's have a round of applause for our female tribute!" A scattered applause rings through the watching people. "And time for our male tribute!"

Effie's hand disappears into a second bowl. Your muscles are tense, your eyes narrowed, you're praying and praying that it's not you, not you.

Any other day, and Fate chooses now to be a bitch. It's like that one time you were scoping up in a tree for game, and you slipped and plummeted ten feet. When you had hit the ground, all the breath had rushed from your lungs.

"Our male tribute for the 80th Hunger Games is... Karkat Vantas!"

**Well, that's that. Not as long as I hoped it would be, but never fear, my lovelies! The chapters following will be longer, hopefully.**

**No, this is NOT going to be a KarkatxVriska story. I don't even know if I'll make this have any pairings. Maybe GamKar... IDK.**

**Anyways. Read, review, be merry, fuck a sheep. Yeah.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 already? Shit, Starpelt, calm yourself! *smacksself***

**Well, you know. I can't ignore that little writer inside of me that talks in Kanye West's voice. v_v**

**Don't ask. Enjoy!**

/

You are faintly aware of four voices shouting above the rest, in shock, in fear. Son of a bitch, they're just making this worse. Effie Trinket beams at the audience. You don't think you've ever hated anyone else in your whole life.

There's one or two clappers, the fuckers, but everyone stares up at you with the same mixture of shock and pity on their faces. Someone so young, and so well-known for their skill with the sickle. Fuck that, you don't want their pity.

You glance at Sollux. He takes off his glasses, looking at you with a mixture of shock and sadness. He jerks his head, and you can hear his voice, ringing in your ears. Chin up, KK.

You oblige, walking straight forward with your head up high, erasing any expression as you stand beside Vriska. You glance purposefully at the cameras, giving your look a darkness that pretty much screams I'm not afraid, I'm fucking pissed off!

"Let's hear it for the tributes of District 12!" exclaims Effie. Vriska gives you this smile that irks you so much you just want to wipe it from her annoying face. You shake hands, and the Peacekeepers lead you off.

You don't pay attention as the Peacekeepers lead you through the corridors of the Justice Building. You enter a room, and they leave you there. It's so... rich. It feels wrong when you sit on the velvet couch and run your shoes through the fluffy carpet.

You dwell upon the past events. That morning up in the tree seemed like years ago. You scowl heavily. Just your fucking luck. Maybe you did jinx it, and this was the universe's way of laughing at you and saying 'I told you so!'

For a long time you just sit there, glaring and swearing under your breath, at the Capitol, their unfairness, how you didn't deserve this. You look up as you hear the door open and closed, and you're suddenly engulfed in a mass of bodies.

"No, no, you can't go Karkitty!" you hear Nepeta wail. You feel her arms around her, feel a wetness seeping into your red shirt, and you know she's bawling her pathetic little eyes out. You stand there for a few moments, before wrapping your arms around your sister.

"It'll be okay, Nepeta. I'll win, for all of us. I'll get us a big house in the Victor's Village, and Katniss and Haymitch can be our neighbors, and none of this will fucking happen again," you bite out. Unless your sisters get picked for the Hunger Games, which you hope will never happen.

You feel Nepeta nod, her sobs muffled against your shoulder. You look up, watching the tears leak from Terezi's eyes, though she's grinning at you, as always. You can't bring yourself to say how fucking infuriating that grin is.

Sollux is blinking his eyes rapidly. He approaches you, and drops something into your lap. You look at him, then at the sign of the Cancer zodiac and a preserved crab claw attached to a clip.

"They thay you're allowed to wear one object in the arena to remind you of home," he says. You stare at him blankly, before rolling your eyes and holding out your arms. Your whole family hugs you, crushing the air out of your lungs, and you feel yourself cry. Just a little bit. You're not some kind of fucking unfeeling monster. You feel your mother kiss your head as the Peacekeepers take them away, but Sollux stays behind. There's still another five minutes for you to talk.

"Lithten, if you can, get your handth on a thickle. It's your best chance of thurvival," he says.

You grimace. You don't want to think of killing anyone yet, but you nod anyways.

"They don't fucking always have sickles. I've only seen sickles once, and nobody used them," you snap. Yes, your weapon was fairly unique, but it suited you.

"If not, uthe a bow. You're not fucking perfect, but you aren't terrible. And don't be afraid to kill a few bathtardth, for uth," he sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Jutht... thurvive. I'm exthpecting you to come home thafe and thound," he says with a weak smile.

He hugs you, then he's taken away. You don't realize you're crying until the Peacekeepers come and herd you out to the train station, where you persistently wipe your eyes.

You're met with flashing cameras and persistent reporters. You give them a scowl, not caring if your eyes are a little red and puffy. Your hand is clenched so tightly around the clip that your knuckles hurt. You attach the clip to your belt-loop and ignore any reporter's questions, letting the Peacekeepers guide you onto the train, 9before the sound of the cameras drowns out.

You just barely manage to hold in a gasp at the sight of the train. It's very luxurious, with soft carpets and furniture. You absently stare around, and the train gives a lurch. You peer out a window, watching the landscape whisk past as you start the journey to the Capitol. At this speed, it would take only a day.

You head down the train, walking absently, then you're stopped by Effie Trinket. "Oh, there you are!" she says in that annoying accent. You grimace, glaring at her. She doesn't seem put off by the look.

"Come with me, I'll show you to the dining car, then you can go to your room if you wish," she says.

You're not really in the mood to talk to Vriska, and you voice this, but she just grabs your wrist with a surprisingly firm grip and leads you down the hall.

"Hey, Trinket, I don't fucking appreciate being manhandled!" you snarl, trying to wrench your hand away. She gives you a surprised look, her lips pursing.

"Now see here, young man, I will not tolerate such language. You need to make yourself seem dignified if you want sponsors," she scolds. You roll your eyes.

"Sponsors, right. Because I'm so fucking incapable of surviving on my own, never mind the fact that I've done just that and helped support a family of four, not including myself, for thir-damn-teen years! It's like the universe is constantly vomiting bad mojo onto me. Oh, Karma, what have I done to upset you in the past? Heaven forbid mean Karkat uses naughty language around the overgrown babies!" you snap. Effie seems a bit stunned.

"Hah, that was good, kid, I like you," you hear. You turn, seeing Haymitch and Katniss standing in the doorway. Haymitch is grinning like he just spotted a juicy bit of meat. Katniss looks amused and indignant.

"Go easy on Effie, okay? I know this is bad, but don't be so negative about it," Katniss says. You glance at her, and shake your head.

"Right, forgive me for being a tad bit pissed off about this hole shitty ordeal. I'll just go wallow in a pool of my own bile, spewed from my esophagus by large amounts of self-pity," you grumble, stalking past Katniss and Haymitch.

You stare at the large banquet in front of you. Hell, this right here was enough to feed your family for years, and this only serves to piss you off even more. You sit down at the table, not glancing at Vriska as she gives you an annoying smirk.

"Don't. Say. A word. I'm not in the mood for your cocky-ass bitchiness," you snap. With a snort, you notice how much... nicer you are when around your family.

Vriska ignores you. "Well well, Vantas. Never thought I'd have to go against you in the Hunger Games. At least you aren't twelve, then I would feel bad about killing you," Vriska smirks. You shoot her a dirty look, busying yourself by digging into a plate of chicken with creamy orange sauce on it. It tastes good, citrus-y, and you want to shovel your face with it, but you don't want to make yourself sick. Effie stares at you critically, watching you eat. She makes some remark on your table manners that you don't listen to, but she says to go slowly, because there's more to come.

A course of fruit and cheese, rich chocolate cake, and lamb chops and mashed potatoes later, you're starting to feel a little sick due to all the rich foods. Vriska handles this all like a pro, because she lives in the richer part of the District, even though she looks a little green around the edges too.

You go into a separate room to watch the rest of the Reapings on a big television. You try hard to remember all the tributes from the districts. In District 1, a girl with very vibrant red hair- you find yourself scowling at the color- named Sheila and a boy with unnaturally green hair are chosen. You pay attention as they call names for this District. His name is Abel.

In District 2, a very buff looking, sweaty guy named Equius and a finely dressed chick named Kanaya are chosen. You size up the buff guy wearily. He looks strong as hell. In District 3, a guy with glasses and a shock of bright orange hair joins a girl with long, wavy blond hair. You don't pay much attention to them, only remembering the girl's name to be Meeka. In District 4, a pompous looking guy with a streak of purple hair named Eridan and a bubbly girl- not so bubbly as she walked up to the stage- named Feferi were chosen.

The District 5 girl is young and looks so much like Nepeta you find yourself biting

hard upon your lip as her name- Juniper- is called. Another large male tribute is called, which makes you wary, again. You don't pay very much attention for the rest, knowing that the more threatening tributes were from the upper Districts 1, 2, and 4. These were the Careers. They hunted in packs, like wild dogs, of which you were very wary of.

You don't pay attention for Districts 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10 are called. You feel like dosing off when District 11 comes by, and they just called up a girl with short, almost white hair, when Katniss swats you and you sit straight up.

They called the name of a boy who had no use of his legs. He was in a wheelchair. You watch with rapt attention as he fights back tears, wheeling up to the stage, when another boy steps up and throws his arms protectively in front of him and volunteers.

Your jaw has dropped. Katniss's face was grim. Of course, she volunteered for her sister six years ago. The camera zooms close into the volunteer's face, and you can see that it's painted to resemble a clown's. His hair is long and wild, and he has this grin on his face as he walks into the Justice Building of his District that doesn't fail to irritate and shock you. His name is Gamzee Makara.

Your District plays, then the television blares the national anthem, then the program ends. The room is silent. Katniss has a distant look in her eyes, and you can tell she's remembering.

"That was very heroic of that kid. Like you, Katniss," chuckles Haymitch. Katniss nods without humor.

"Too bad. That cripple boy was cute," giggles Vriska. You snarl at her.

"Shut your irritating mouth. It would suck if that kid was put into the hell-hole with us," you snap. Vriska scoffs and tosses her hair over her shoulder.

"Don't start fighting yet, children," mocks Haymitch. "Katniss here has forced me to remain as sober as possible for this." Katniss gave a very small roll of her eyes.

"Thank God. I don't want you collapsing all over us," you grumble. Vriska nods her agreement.

Effie and your mentors allow you to go to your rooms on the train. A Capitol member leads you into your room, and you blink at the luxury. The Capitol was quite flashy, wasn't it? You scowl, stripping yourself of your shirt, digging amongst the drawers for something warm to wear. You pull out very fluffy white pajamas, an eyebrow cocked, before you shrug and change into them.

You collapse unceremoniously onto the bed, running your fingers along the soft blankets. You just want to sink into them now, to disappear.

You imagine what your family is doing. The shutters are probably drawn closed, your family probably sleeping on the floor in a mass of blankets and pillows, clinging onto each other. Nepeta, Terezi, and your mother would be crying, and Sollux would try to console them, telling them that they would get by, that you would come home soon, safe and sound, even though the prospect was unlikely, and you all knew that.

The first time that tradition of comfort and lament happened was before Nepeta was born, you were one and your father had just died and Sollux had recieved the Medal of Valor for his father's death. The second time was when Nepeta's pet cat, Sir Pounce de Leon, died, two years ago. Nepeta had cried her eyes out, and your family had to lay on the floor with her until she fell asleep, holding her.

You shiver despite the fuzzy warm clothes clinging to your skin, and you crawl beneath the covers. You feel overwhelmed with a sense of loneliness, your bed feeling empty without the presence of one of your siblings. You clutch at yourself, feeling tears leaking down your face for the second time today. It doesn't matter, you can wash the damage away in the morning.

You slip slowly into a restless slumber, curled into a ball, hoping you would wake up in District 12 because Nepeta decided to pounce on you. Then you would go out hunting with Sollux, maybe take Nepeta with you, and then you would eat breakfast and Terezi would be annoying as usual...

/

_It was so dark. Where are you? Why was it so dark?_

_You're vaguely aware of voices. You walk, blind to everything around you, due to the impenetrable darkness. The hushed whispers seem far away, but just ghost against your ear and your neck, with hot breath that sends chills up your body. You become frantic, wanting to get away from the voices, the taunting. You can't understand them, but you know they're malicious._

_The darkness breaks, and you can see a door up ahead. You reach for it, limbs moving slower than a glacier, fingers outstretched. You feel the cold of the doorknob, and you wrench the door open, darting into the new room, hoping for sanctuary._

_The room you entered is white. You blink your eyes, which are abused by the sudden switch from dark to light. The whispers are quiet._

_You turn, panting, and your eyes lock onto something. It's a black mass, slowly approaching, traveling along the wall. A shadow, the figure of a man, with a mass of wild hair and curved goat horns pointing upwards. It stops right in front of you. Instincts scream wildly at you to run, to do _something_, but you can't move._

_The shadow raises its hand, and waves at you once. It makes motions in the air, and you watch as a smiley face with a circle nose appears on the wall above its head. You at first think its paint, because it's purple, but then the metallic stench invades your nose and you gag. No, it was blood._

_You're terrified now. You whip around, hearing laughter, echoing, echoing. You see a row of eleven people, familiar faces. They have gray skin, and sunset-colored horns. Some of them are tributes from other districts, and you know all their names._

_Feferi, Eridan, Gamzee, Equius, Vriska, your stomach gives a sudden jolt, Terezi, Kanaya, Nepeta, Sollux, Tavros, Aradia._

_They all have respective blood colors dribbling down their faces. Feferi has a gaping wound in her chest, leaking with magenta blood. Eridan is cut cleanly in half, deep purple blood leaking onto the floor, his glasses cracked. Gamzee has three claw marks running down his face. Equius has wire wrapped around his neck, blue blood dripping down his neck, staining his shirt. Vriska has a slash running cleanly down her chest. Terezi's glasses are gone, revealing scorched holes dripping with teal where her eyes should have been. Kanaya has a hole ripped through her midsection. Nepeta is bruised, one of her arms is at an awkward angle, her skull is dented and leaking with green. Sollux's eyes are black. Yellow blood is dribbling down his chin. Tavros has a hole ripped cleanly through his stomach, so you can see right through him. Aradia has a hole in her chest, where her heart should be._

_And they're all grinning at you._

_You lift your hands to your head to attempt to shut out the onslaught of persistent voices, but you freeze. You stare at the cherry red blood covering your hands, a brighter red than that of a traditional humans'. You look up, watching as rainbow leaks from the walls behind the row of grinning people. You take a step backwards, teeter, then fall into darkness, cherry red blood raining down upon you._

/

You wake up with a jolt, rolling out of bed with a loud "Fuck!" and belly-flopping onto the floor. You are covered with cold sweat, the grinning faces of the phantoms in your nightmare flashing in your mind.

That was the first time you've ever seen that. Normally your nightmares involve you running from something, but this was the first that involved people you've never seen before. Panting as if you ran a mile, you run a hand through your hair, eyes wide with fear. You've never wanted to puke at the sight of a rainbow more than you have now.

Speaking of puking... You get quickly to your feet, running into your bathroom, and release the contents of yesterday's dinner into the toilet, until all you're doing is retching with a bitter taste in your mouth. You look into the mirror, wiping your mouth with the sleeve of your white pajamas. You look green. Then you hear Effie knocking at your door.

"Up, up, up! It's going to be a big, big, big, day!" she says. You growl out a very colorful reply.

You climb shakily to your feet, stripping and leaping into the shower. The water is scalding hot, but you don't currently give a flying shit. When you finish bathing, you leap back out, drying in a rush, dressing into a plain long-black tee-shirt with gray pants. You're in a hurry to get out of that room. It was starting to feel overbearing.

You open your door, racing down the hall of the shaking train. You pause, panting, in front of a window. The sight of the outside world stuns you into reality. You calm down, your heartbeat slowing to its normal pace.

You continue into the dining car. Katniss, Haymitch, and Vriska are already present. You begrudgingly sit down. Immediately you're attacked by plates of eggs and bacon. There are rolls in a basket and fruits everywhere. Your mouth waters, but you don't have much of an appetite. You grimace at the bright colored fruits and turn back to your food, ripping apart a roll and meekly putting it into your mouth.

Haymitch is reaching for a glass of spirits, and Katniss instantly slaps his hand away, glaring at him ferociously. "These two are fighters. I can tell," she says, staring you right in the face. "You need to be on top of your game, Haymitch."

Haymitch chortles, reaching his hand away from the glass. "Fine. I don't want to be nearly stabbed again," he jokes. You and Vriska both arch an eyebrow.

"Right. Any advice for us surviving in the arena?" asks Vriska.

"Stay alive," says Haymitch and Katniss instantly, perfectly in sync. The looks on their faces say that they're dead serious. Honestly, it's the best advice that's the most simple.

Katniss and Haymitch examine you and Vriska. You feel like an animal, being checked for problems before being sent to slaughter. That's fairly close to the reality of it, after all.

"You're not the prettiest bunch, but you'll do," says Haymitch with a nod. "Plus, your stylists will make you look much prettier."

The second your mentors stop examining you, you and Vriska both launch into a barrage of questions. Haymitch puts up his hands to tell us to hold our horses. You growl at him under your breath. You're starting to get your old temper back, which had been subdued due to your night terrors.

"You may not like what Katniss or I say, or what your stylists decide to do, but you have to put up with it. Don't try to resist," Haymitch says.

"What? That's fucking stupid! I'm not some fucking primpy poodle-" you start angrily, but Katniss shuts you up with a firm glance.

"Don't resist," she repeats Haymitch. Then, the train is suddenly in darkness. A few lights are still on inside, but outside it was as if night decided to pop in earlier than normal. You must be traveling through the mountains that form a natural barrier between the Capitol and the Districts.

The darkness makes you freak out. You cling to the edge of the table tightly, gritting your teeth, your eyes wide in the darkness. You imagine the tons and tons of rock above you, and that does nothing to help ease you.

When the train finally begins to slow, eons later, bright light suddenly bursts through. You hiss, reminded painfully of your dream, and cover your eyes. When you open them, you gasp and run straight to a window, where Vriska joins you.

It's magnificent. The city is filled with glittering buildings the size of ten oak trees stacked on top of each other. Shiny cars roll down the street, people with unnatural hair and faces point and stare in revere as your train passes. All the bright, painful colors makes your meal threaten to come back up again. You shudder, trying to ignore it.

You step away from the window and the pointing, eager people, but Vriska remains. She's waving, smirking with her blue-painted lips. You distantly remember your dream, of the blue blood dripping out of those lips, the slash in her chest...

You snap out of it as the train jerks to a stop, making you stumble. Vriska laughs at you, and you watch her flounce away, a firm dislike making a bitter taste rise in your throat.

You're troubled to know you have to kill her, but it seems like she doesn't mind one bit. With that thought, you growl, following her to your eminent demise.

/

**Hory sheet! Long chapter is long!**

**Honestly, I think this chapter sucks ass. ****Oh well. So sue me.**


	3. Chapter 3

**REVIEWERS MAKE ME GO DOKIDOKI *heartheartheartheartheart***

**Thanks to ItsYourDamage and fayfan for reviewing. Now I have motivation.**

**BTW, this is my first Homestuck and my first Hunger Games fanfiction. Win? Fail? I don't know.**

**Enjoy~~~~**

/

"AUGH, GET THE FUCK OFF ME YOU FUCKING RETARDS!"

"Please, just cooperate! It'll only take a second. Your hair is so messy..."

"NO, I WILL NOT COOPERATE, ASSHOLE! THIS FUCKING HURTS!"

"Your legs are so smooth, like a baby's! How odd..."

"Okay, that's just fucking creepy. Now that you're done abusing my skin, care to get the fuck OFF ME?"

You are being crowded by your prep team, and they are doing nothing besides pissing you off to the point where you think you're about to explode. Their stupid accents aren't helping ease your temper, either.

Meesh, a man with lemon-colored hair and skin died a silly lavender color, darts over to your right and restarts his attempt to tame your messy hair. You imagine that Makara kid, and just barely hold back a snort of amusement at what hell he's giving his prep team.

You've been in the Remake Center for more than two hours and your stylist refuses to show herself until you're a beautiful butterfly instead of a fat ugly grub. That metamorphosis has included being scrubbed down in a tub with a lemony-scented, gritty foam that not only removed every layer of dirt from your body, but also three layers of skin, leaving you feeling raw; trimming the long nails that you were proud of after you accidentally scratched the shit out of one woman, Hespia, who looks like she placed orange peels on her head.

"Actually, there is one last thing we can do," says Hespia. You shudder at the twinkle in her eyes. Okay, now they're really creeping you out. "Grease him down!"

You make a disgusted face as Meesh and Penia, a woman with silvery hair floating all the way down to her thighs, rub a lotion everywhere over your body. At first it stings your raw skin, but then it sooths it.

They let you up off the table you were sitting on, taking away the robe you were allowed to wear off and on. You stand, completely bare to the world, watching as they circle you, correcting anything they may have missed. You try and fight back a blush. You feel really, really awkward.

They finally step back, admiring their work. "Perfect! You actually look like a civilized human being now!" jokes Hespia. The others laugh in agreement. It takes all your willpower not to smack them.

You're about ready to yell at them again, when Katniss's menacing face appears in your subconscious. You start, and give a strained smile. "Thank you, guys. We don't have much cause to look nice in District 12," you say. You sound a bit too... insincere, but they lap it up with flustered smiles and pats.

"Don't worry dear. With all that grime and after we shaped your eyebrows a bit," still sore eyebrows gave a twitch of annoyance, "you look actually not bad. But after Portia gets her hands on you, you'll look stunning!"

Portia and Cinna make excellent stylists, you know this. During Katniss's year in the Hunger Games, they made the illusion that she and her fellow tribute, Peeta Mellark, were on fire. You have honestly high expectations for the two stylists.

"Yes, let's call Portia!" squeals Penia, and the three dart off to call your stylist. You smack your forehead, groaning. It was kinda hard to be angry at your prep team, they were such idiots. You wonder if Vriska's are as this... dopey.

You shiver, bare in the room, and resist the urge to go grab your robe and burrow into it. You know your stylist will just make you take it off again.

The door opens and a pretty woman who you recognize from interviews from past games to be Portia. She has olive-toned skin and dark hair, and she just looks... normal. It's weird. The only alteration to her appearance is the dark green lipstick she wears.

"Hi, Karkat. You must know me already, correct?" she says with a smile. You nod, watching her as she circles you, examining your body. You realize her Capitol accent is very subtle, almost as if it isn't even there.

"You're very thin, and it doesn't appear it's from starvation," she points out. She glances up at your hair with a titter of amusement. "And your hair is so messy. Don't worry, the disheveled look fits you." You aren't worrying about that, but alright.

"Okay then. Why don't you pull on your robe, and we'll have a little chat," says Portia. You comply with relief, following her out a door into a small sitting room. You sit in a plush chair that would threaten to swallow you whole if you didn't sit completely still in it. Portia sits across from you.

One of the walls in the room is made completely out of glass, giving you a spectacular view of the glistening Capitol. You wrinkle your nose at the sight, and turn back to your stylist. She presses a button on the side of the low table in front of you, and the top splits and up comes a second tabletop that holds your lunch, still steaming. A thick, creamy sauce that coats chicken that rest on a bed of pearly grain, bread that smells faintly like cinnamon, carrots and celery with a cheesy sauce and for desert, a lemony-smelling pudding.

You stare blankly at the meal, eyes narrowed. Oh, how many days of hunting and gathering and trading would be spent trying to make this meal, and yet it would only be a disgusting rip-off of the Capitol version. Portia smiles at you.

"We're horrible, huh?" she says quietly. You meet her eyes and frown, before taking a plate of the food and digging in hungrily. But she's right. The whole lot of them are horrible.

"Anyways. So, Karkat, about your costume for the opening ceremony," begins Portia. Your head snaps up, and you're at rapt attention. "My partner, Cinna, is the stylist for your fellow tribute, Vriska," you know this already. "And we have decided to dress you in complementary costumes." Aw hell, you had to match that bitch? "As you know, it's customary for your costume to reflect your district." You nod.

"My expectations are very high, y'know," you say with a completely serious look. Portia smiles knowingly.

"Of course, I expected so. We're going at a different angle this year. How good are your lungs, Karkat?" Portia asks with a mischievous grin. You stare at her wearily, and that only makes her grin widen even further.

/

A few hours later, you're dressed in the greatest costume you have ever laid your eyes on. You're dressed in a long-sleeved tight black shirt and equally tight pants. Shiny leather boots are laced up to your knees. A long, long trail of multi-colored gray and black cloth wisps out behind you in a cape. Vriska stands beside you, dressed in the same wispy material. On both of your chests, there are yellow and orange and red gemstones, weaved into the dark fabric to resemble a flickering flame every time you moved. You're both wearing headdresses, made out of the same stuff as the cape.

"We're going to release this smoke that attaches to that fabric. Don't worry, you'll be fine." Cinna assures us. You grimace, not totally sure you won't be suffocated by the time the opening ceremonies are over.

Both your and Vriska's skin has been coated in a shimmery gray makeup. Vriska's eyes are surrounded by white, yours are surrounded by red, which brings out your eyes. You hate the color red.

Portia comes over to you. "You look so magnificent. We're going for the mysterious aim this year. You'll be the ones like smoke," she says dreamily. You glance over at Vriska, who's talking to Cinna, and you smirk at the disbelieving look on her face.

"Right. Let's just get this shit over with," you sigh, crossing your arms.

Without further ado, you're whisked down to the bottom level of the Remake Center, which is essentially a giant stable. You wrinkle your nose.

"Ugh, it smells like horse shit down here!" you cough. Vriska rolls her eyes.

"You can deal with it, Karcrab," says Vriska with a grin. You scowl at her.

The opening ceremonies are about to begin. Pairs of tributes are being loaded into their respective carriages. You look for the District 2, 4, and 11, instantly recognizing those faces from your dreams. You gulp, climbing into your own carriage. Your horses are a deep gray, and are so well trained that no one needs to guide them.

Cinna and Portia busy over your positions, adjusting the wisps of fabric, before moving to consult with each other.

You and Vriska stand in a very uncomfortable silence. Well, more like you're quiet. Vriska is chattering about something you could quite honestly care less about. You pinch the bridge of your nose, snapping at her to shut the fuck up, when the opening music begins, and the District 1 tributes head out. Their horses are pure white, spray painted silver to shimmer in the light. The crowd greets them with a roar. They were always favorites.

District 2 gets into position to follow them. You watch Equius and Kanaya closely, examining their stone-based outfits, because District 2 works in the quarries. Then District 4 comes by, and you watch Eridan and Feferi, dressed in cloth that shimmers like water. District 11 rolls through, and you spot Gamzee, with a leafy headdress and a tunic that looks to be made out of cherry blossoms.

Cinna and Portia approach you, and press a button on the side of your chariot. Smoke immediately engulfs you and Vriska, curling around your bodies. The smoke seems to stick to the fabric that make up your cape, coming off of the fabric in wisps. Cinna says something, and makes a gesture, then you go. You're faintly aware of Vriska taking your hand. It was customary now. District 12, always united.

The crowd screams excitedly. You tilt your chin up high, even going as far as to grin and wave to the audience. They love you and Vriska. You feel untouchable, like if anyone tried to grab you, you'd just disappear into nothing. The smoke curling around your headdress wisps off around you. You glance at Vriska, and she looks probably as elusive and mysterious as you do.

Your names are being called from both sides. They seem to love Vriska more. She's just manipulative like that.

You glance at a giant screen and suck in a breath. The smoke is curling around your face. The gray make up makes you blend into the smoke. Wisps of the stuff flows from your back, like you're leaving a trail of smoke. Every subtle movement makes the stones on your chest shimmer. All that's visible of your face are your startling red eyes.

You really hate that color.

You glance down, noting that Vriska is squeezing the shit out of your hand. The twelve chariots fill the loop of the City Circle. Every window of every building is packed with the faces of Capitol members, all wanted get a glimpse of you. Your horses pull right up to President Snow's mansion and you come to a halt.

The president is a thin man with paper-white hair. He gives the official welcome from a balcony above you. The cameras cut to every tribute's face as Snow gives his speech. The darker it becomes, the harder it is to see you and Vriska. Only your glittering red eyes- standing out with the makeup- and the gemstones on your chest show you're even there.

The national anthem plays, and you parade around the Circle one last time, before disappearing into the Training Center.

The doors have only just barely shut behind you when you're engulfed by your prep team. They shower you with praise. Vriska and you release each others hands, rubbing them, trying to get feeling back.

The smoke slowly fades away, but some of the stuff is clinging to your clothes. Portia gives you a giant grin, and you swear you didn't smile back. It was just a twitch of your lips, is all.

"Hey, that was pretty cool, brother," you hear. You look up, watching Gamzee Makara as he trudges over to you. Damn, he was tall. He easily overtook your meager five-foot-three-inches.

"Yeah, yeah, what the fuck ever," you grumble. You don't return the complement. He just gives you a dopey smile.

You glare at him. He smiles even wider. "Woah. Your eyes are hella motherfucking sweet, brother. I'm Gamzee Makara, District 11," he says.

"Yeah, yeah, I know fuckass," you snap. His face makeup is creeping you out a little bit. Especially as he grins at you even wider.

"I'll be seeing you in later, then," he chortles. He takes off his leafy crown and puts it on your head, entering the elevator with his fellow female tribute, who gives him a stern look and immediately begins scolding. He waves to you, then disappears. You watch him travel upwards in the elevator, shaking your head. You remove the leafy headdress, clutching it tightly in your hand as you and Vriska shoot upwards. The walls of the elevator are made out of crystal, so you can watch as the people below you turn into tiny dots.

You stop at your floor, the one marked with your number, and you and Vriska immediately part ways. You're led by a red-headed Avox girl to your room.

Your room is bigger than your house. You groan, tossing off your clothes, watching as little puffs of smoke that still managed to cling on float up then disappear.

You shower, then collapse on your bed. The Training Center would be your home until the Games start and you're taken to the arena.

You reach for the leafy headdress Gamzee gave you. You turn it over and over in your hands, glaring daggers at it. You wouldn't be surprised if the force of your gaze made it catch on fire.

What was Gamzee's motivation for giving this to you? A peace treaty? Did you make an ally before you even set foot into the arena? Or is he just leading you on, getting you to trust him before he destroys you in the arena.

A voice in your subconscious screams at you not to fall asleep, that the nightmares will come again, but you ignore it, as you gradually slip into unconsciousness. Your hand is still tight around Gamzee Makara's gift.

/

**Well, that's that. Hooray for progress~!**

**Writing Gamzee is a lot easier than writing Karkat for me. v_v Vriska is a bitch to write.**

**How'd you like KK's costume? I _may _draw it. Idk. If I do, I'll put it up on my deviantArt account.**


	4. Chapter 4

**AUGH. More reviewers~! You're all so lurvley :L**

**Writers block sucks Equius's sweaty *hit with a brick* Ow.**

**Thanks to Neks for the positive feedback. Let us get married and have forty-billion kids and name them all after Homestuck and Hunger Games characters. :D *hit with a brick again* AUGH I WAS KIDDING.**

/

_You're having another nightmare. Your skin is that same gray color, and you reach up and feel nubby horns atop your head. You frown curiously, wondering about your strange dream-appearance as you cautiously poke a sharp tooth with your tongue. Once more you passed through that inky black nothingness, but the whispers were not present. You walk forward, tense, nearing the door ever so slowly._

_Electricity seems to course through you as you grip the handle, but you open the door anyways. You gasp at the sight before you._

_Bodies are strewn everywhere. You recognize the eleven that now began to haunt your dreams relentlessly. Body parts have been thrown carelessly across the room, mutilated beyond any recognition. You gag, covering your mouth, leaning against a wall stained with rainbow blood splatters. You feel like you're about to be sick._

_You look up, and gasp. Standing in the center of the room is a solid black figure. You can see half of a katana blade jutting out of its midsection. Huge wings sprout from its back, and one of its arms is missing._

_It turns, and reveals its wolfish face to you. Its lips pull back into a snarl, baring bloodstained teeth. It reaches out its right hand, stained with cherry red blood, with a golden ring glowing upon it._

_It growls lowly under its breath. You take two steps backwards, watching it wearily as it pulls the bleeding sword out of its midsection. It swipes, and you feel a stinging pain. You tremble, clutching at your throat as cherry red blood pours onto the ground. You try and scream, but only succeed in releasing a frightened gurgle. Your vision is blurring, and you finally fall forward-_

You hit the floor with a gasp, your head pounding hard. You sit up quickly, your legs falling off the bed and onto the floor with a heavy thunk. You grasp frantically for your throat, and are relieved to find it fine. It was only a dream, after all. A hauntingly realistic dream...

You shake your head to clear it, glancing at your alarm clock. It's 6 in the morning. The sun isn't even up yet. You sigh, stretching, going to your shower to wash off the sweat and the remaining blood that still flickers in your mind's eye.

You stare blankly at the mass of buttons and switches on your shower, scratching your head. You're grateful for something to distract your brain from past drama, but is this really necessary? You sigh, and push a random button. That button happens to shoot a combination of freezing water and pink-colored foam that smells like flowers. Horrified, you step away from the blast, not wanting to smell like a girl.

Eventually you pick a soap that smells minty and figure out how to set the water to a reasonable temperature. You scowl at how much of a hassle that was.

When you exit the shower, perfectly dry due to a vent that activates due to the simple press of a button, you see an outfit resting on your bed. A long-sleeved black tunic, with tight black pants and leather shoes. You shrug, slipping the outfit on, pleased on how well it fits your thin frame. Portia and Cinna must have made it, no matter how simple. You clip your Cancer symbol and crab claw onto your belt buckle, and examine yourself in the mirror.

This is an outfit that you would be happy to wear in the woods. It allows your limber body full movement, unlike the constricting tan pants that you wear hunting. The thought relaxes you for a small moment. You straighten up. You doubt anyone will be down for breakfast, since neither Katniss, Haymitch, or Effie has given you a time to be down there. You just hope that there will be food. You need something to distract you (again) from the nightmares.

You are not disappointed. A long table is laden with at least twenty dishes. Stomach rumbling, you load a plate with food and sit down, watching the sun rise over the Capitol absently. When you finish your food, you lean back, sipping absently at a cup of coffee.

Your thoughts stray to your family, what they will be doing. Sollux will be up at about the same time as you, hunting and trading before he has to go work in the mines. It agitated you when he received the letter that he had to go work there, because you didn't want him to die like your father.

Nepeta would help Terezi pick out her clothes before they got all slobbery. Your sister had this insane idea that she could taste colors. You find yourself smiling before you can stop yourself. Has it only been two days since you last seen your family? It seems like a lifetime to you. You've never been away from them for more than a few hours.

Haymitch, Katniss, and Vriska come in, giving you a good morning. Or, a smirk and an annoying hair ruffle from Vriska, which is met with a glare and several choice swears. It only irritates you further when you see Vriska is wearing the same outfit as you. You growl at her under her breath, and she cackles.

"Oh Karcrab, we're matching! Isn't that endeaaaaaaring?" she coos. You glare at her.

"Fuck off, you puss-filled dick blister. I'm not in the mood for your annoying shit this morning, so kindly leave me the hell alone until we have to kill each other in the arena," you snap, eyes twitching uncontrollably. Your insult stuns Katniss, but only make Haymitch and Vriska laugh.

Your frustration at Vriska helps distract you from the nervousness the idea of training in front of the other tributes gives you. For three days, the tributes will train together. On the afternoon on the final day, the tributes will perform privately in front of the Gamemakers, who will rate you on your performance. The thought makes you slightly queasy, and you stare at the now lukewarm coffee in your hand, wrinkling your nose in distaste.

Haymitch finishes his breakfast and leans back. Katniss is still absently picking at a roll of bread, a distant look in your eyes. You quirk your eyebrow, and she meets your gaze, but says nothing.

"So, about the training. Do you want to do this separately or together?" Haymitch asks. You glance at Vriska. You know that she's incredibly smart and manipulative, not to mention fast. Plus, she can throw knives like a pro.

"We can be trained together. As much as I fucking resent the idea of being in the same room as bitchtits for more than five minutes, I guess we don't have very many secret skills or anything," you say with a growl. Vriska leans back, nodding in agreement.

"Yep. Karkles over here has wicked talent with the sickles, and a bit with the bow and arrow," says Vriska with a grin. You stare at her oddly.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" you snap.

Vriska shrugs. "Nothing, my dear Karcrab~ I'm just giving you some subtle praise, no need to be rubbed the wrong way. And me, well, I don't have many skills at all." she chirps with a grin that you just want to punch right off her face, but tributes, sadly, aren't allowed to fight before the arena.

"Don't give me that shit. You're good with throwing knives. I know you can hit your target dead-on and you're really fast and smart," you retort, crossing your arms.

"Oh please, I'm definitely not as fast as you, Karkles," she snickers. Is that sarcasm you detect?

"Oh stop it, both of you," Katniss interjects. You turn and glare at her, surprised to see that she's grinning. "You both have your talents that can be useful in the arena."

Haymitch nods. "Karkat, there's no guarantee that there will be sickles in the arena. But until then, steer clear of that area in training." he says. You nod.

"Same with you, Vriska. You two need to hide your strengths. Patch up on your weaker areas, learn something you don't know. Throw a few spears, swing a few swords, learn how to set a good trap, how to make a nice fire, even some edible plants," says Katniss.

Vriska looks put off at the fact that she won't be showing off in the training center, but you would rather let your fellow tributes underestimate you. You, Vriska, and your mentors come to the agreement to save your strengths for the Gamemakers.

"One last thing before you go. Remain by each others' sides at all times." You and Vriska immediately begin to complain, and Katniss gives you both a stern look that ceases your whining.

"No complaints. You two need to show that District 12 is always united, even when faced with death in the arena. I don't care if you two hate each other," she says firmly. You growl under your breath.

"Fucking fine. I'll stay by the crazy spider-bitch's side like a fucking dung-beetle following a smelly animal ass," you snap. Vriska gives you an indignant look that fills you with satisfaction.

"Good to see we have that wrapped up. You will be at the elevator by ten for training." Haymitch says squarely, end of conversation. You stomp irritably out of the dining room, slamming your door behind you so that Vriska can hear it.

"What a fucking joke! Making me stick with that bitch like we're best-fucking-buddies, when we clearly want to tear out each other's throats!" you rant to yourself, pacing in your room, glaring at a spot in space. "At one point, that's going to fucking backfire once they see us going at each other's throats in the arena. 'Always united' my ass, I can't fucking stand her!" you rant, collapsing onto your bed and groaning. This is what you get for being fine with coaching with Vriska. You are immediately regretting that decision. You have two mentors, after all!

You lay in your bed for a long time. When you see its five minutes 'til, you go and freshen up, before walking irritably to the elevator, where you see Effie Trinket and Vriska waiting for you. You purposely avoid Vriska's gaze.

As you descend, you can feel your animosity at Vriska fading and your anxiety forcing back to the surface like an annoying Jack in the Box. You lick your lips nervously.

The actual training rooms are below the ground floor of your building. In this elevator, it takes less than a minute to get there. The doors open into an enormous gymnasium with various weapons and obstacle courses. Although it's not yet ten, you're the last one to arrive. The other tributes are gathered in a tense circle, glaring at each other. You squirm uncomfortably at the familiar faces, hardly noticing as someone pins the number 12 to your back.

As soon as you and Vriska join the circle, the head trainer, a tall, athletic woman named Atala steps up and begins to explain the training schedule. Experts in each skill will remain at their stations. You will be free to travel from station to station, per your mentors' instructions, blah blah blah.

You examine the tributes around you nervously. You realize most of your gender is larger than you are. You catch Gamzee's eye, and he smiles at you. You glare at him, quickly averting your gaze.

Atala releases you, and you watch them all scatter towards different areas. You quickly spot a place with miscellaneous weaponry, and your hands itch to snatch up the glistening sickles you see and lob off a dummy's head off, when Vriska firmly grips your arm and drags you off.

As you pass the archery station, you spot another familiar face, with a 7 pinned to her shirt. That would be Aradia. She meets your gaze with maroon eyes, the same color as her blood in your dream, as you pass and you turn away in embarrassment.

You and Vriska decide on the edible plants station. You pass this without batting an eyelash. After an incident when you were seven and you almost bit into a poisonous berry, Sollux decided to school you in the edible plants area.

You head over to the knot-tying station, and the instructor is eager to see you. Obviously knot-tying is not the most popular station in the training center.

The next three days pass with you and Vriska avoiding the weapons area. You perfect your bow handling, Vriska, you discover, is able to lob a thirty-pound weight halfway across the gym. You stare at her in surprise, sputtering out a "Holy shit", which is met with a grin.

The Gamemakers appeared early on the first day, wearing deep purple robes that gently tickle your memory, but you can't quite place it. They sit in the elevated stands that surround the gymnasium, observing us, jotting down notes, other times completely ignoring you and instead focusing on the enormous banquet that is set for them. You find that they're also keeping an eye on the District 12 tributes. More than once you look up and see one trained intently on you. When you eat, they consult with the trainers.

Breakfast and dinner are served on your floor, but you eat with the other tributes for lunch. The Career tributes tend to gather noisily around one table. Most of them eat by themselves, but the ones you are familiar with tend to stick with each other.

One day during lunch, you and Vriska attempt to keep up a painfully friendly conversation, when you sense another presence. You look up in suprise as Gamzee Makara and his fellow tribute, along with that girl from District 5 that reminds you painfully of Nepeta, and to your surprise, Kanaya from District 2 and Feferi from District 4, who is joined unhappily by Eridan.

You and Vriska stare blankly at them. Feferi grins, speaking up.

"District 12, right? Your opening ceremonies were fantastic! That smoky-thingy was so glubbing cool!" she exclaims. You feel your eyebrow twitch. Fish puns, seriously?

"I agree. That performance was quite stunning, but I would expect no less from the stylists of District 12. They work amazingly with fabrics," says Kanaya.

The tributes that joined you introduce themselves, but you already know them, and the eight of you proceed to make small talk. You're detached from the conversation, only speaking up to jab with an insult or yell at someone. You don't care if you offend them, you'll have to kill them anyways. But they pass this off as your natural attitude and ignore it. Gamzee even goes as far as laughing at your insults.

You learn a lot about their personalities fast, to your displeasure. Eridan Ampora is a stuck-up snob with the biggest ego you've ever seen. He also seems to have this thing for Feferi Peixes, who is insanely friendly and gets easily excited. You don't really give two flying fucks, since that star-crossed lovers act has already been played by Katniss and Peeta.

Gamzee Makara is a laid-back kind of guy, and half the time you think he's on drugs, even though he assures you he's not. Somehow you doubt that. His fellow tribute, Rose Lalonde, does not fail to creep you out by her insane ability to read someone and give them 'advice'.

Juniper Yanond is a shy little girl. She was very quite the whole time she sat with you, though it appeared Gamzee dragged her over to sit with your group.

Kanaya Maryam is a very intelligent girl, with an apparent love for fashion and books about mythological vampires. She kinda creeps you out too, but she also tends to ramble a lot about nothing in particular. Her fellow tribute, Equius Zahhak, is insanely strong.

You honestly don't see the point in learning about your fellow tributes, but they you all seem to just be drawn together, like magnets. On the second day, Aradia joined you and Vriska at the mace station, but you two didn't talk at all. The maroon-blooded one still remains a mystery to you.

On the third and final day of the training, the Gamemakers call you in by District number to be assessed during lunch. Boy, then girl. Naturally, District 12 is destined to go last. You wait in silence, listening as Gamzee prattles on and on to you about clowns. He doesn't seem nervous in the least, and that unsettles you. All he did during training was avoid the weapons entirely.

As Gamzee's name is called, he gets up and doesn't come back. Rose is called after, and she wishes you luck before disappearing also. Then it's your turn.

You enter the gymnasium. Instantly, your temper spikes dangerously. Naturally, they had to sit through twenty-two other performances. They must be tired of watching you monkeys prod things with pointy objects.

You growl under your breath. You gain the attention of some other Gamemakers as you immediately snatch up the sickles. You twirl them in your hands, getting used to the feel of them.

You pause briefly, and immediately dart forward towards one of the unfortunate dummies. You hook it around the neck, the sickle's curved inner blade catching fast to the burlap sack's neck. You tug with no effort, twisting in a circle, and send the dummy flying halfway across the gym, where it hits two others with a crash, but you aren't done yet. Without skipping a beat, you run forward and leap over another dummy, displaying your agility, and kick it into the air. You immediately notice that some of the Gamemakers aren't paying attention, and your temper soars. You want to command total attention.

Acting on impulse, you slice upwards with both sickles, cutting the dummy cleanly in half, before leaping up and kicking the dummy towards the Gamemakers. It hits the bottom of their table, rattling it and making the ones who weren't paying attention glance up in shock. You land squarely on your feet, setting the sickles down. When they excuse you, you fast-walk out of the gym. Once you're out of earshot, you immediately start cursing and hitting yourself in the side of the head.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid! Kick a dummy at the Gamemakers, why don't you, Vantas? That was the smartest fucking idea I've ever come up with!" you snarl to yourself as you stalk to the elevator. You jab the button sharply and you shoot up.

Katniss and Haymitch watch you worriedly as you approach them. Katniss questions you, and you give a short recollection of how you screwed up. To your surprise, Katniss and Haymitch bust out laughing.

"Don't let it get to you! Katniss shot an arrow at the Gamemaker's pig when they weren't paying attention to her. You'll get good marks, don't worry, they love tributes with a little spunk," says Haymitch with a grin. Katniss is still laughing.

Not entirely assured, but feeling a bit better, you stalk on over to your room and close the door. You collapse onto your bed, beating your face into your pillow. God, you were so stupid.

Katniss comes over and calls you to dinner sometime later, and you answer with a groan and slowly climb to your feet, dragging yourself out of your room and past a smirking Katniss.

You introduce her smirk to your middle finger.

You see Vriska, Portia, and Cinna in the dining room, and she looks particularly smug, so you assume her session went well. You're too nervous to really eat, so you just pick at your beef stew absently.

After dinner, you go to the sitting room to watch the scores. You lick your lips, a nervous habit, watching as everyone's scores show up.

Equius got a ten, no surprise there. Kanaya got a nine, no surprise there, either. She works well with chainsaws. Ampora managed an eight. How, you don't know. He seems to have no athletic talent. Feferi gets a nine, and you aren't surprised. You've seen her handle a trident. Aradia got an eight, Gamzee got a ten, Rose got a nine, and little Juniper got an eight. You wonder what the hell she did to get that score, but it must have been impressive considering she's so quiet and tiny.

You lick your lips again as your picture comes up, and they flash a ten beneath your picture. You release a breath, feeling Katniss pat you on the shoulder. Vriska got a nine.

Everyone congratulates you, and you smile despite yourself. Vriska looks a bit peeved off that you did better than her, but she can deal with it.

You head to the room with a spring in your step, pleased by your results. You collapse onto your bed, sighing with satisfaction, as sleep takes you into its cold and unfriendly arms.

/

**Sorry this isn't on schedule, dears. I went to a friend's house yesterday. v_v**

**Onhonhon~ Sickles are hard to write with.**


	5. Chapter 5

**SJDFlasfmalfk you people are too nice to me. Nosrsly.**

**I am listening to Never Gonna Give You Up right now. No, I was not Rick Rolled. Yes, I actually like the song. WEIRD HUH?**

**Enjoy~**

**Insert violent dream here. KARKLES YOUR SUBCONSCIOUS IS FUCKED UP.**

/

_You sit up suddenly, gasping. You're laying in that rainbow-stained room, in a pool of your own cherry-red blood. You stare around wildly, clenching a stone-colored hand, shudders waving throughout your body._

_You crawl to your feet slowly. The room appears to be empty, though the multi-colored splatters and fleshy scent in the air betrays what terrors has happened. You blink, then there's that monster from the other night. Its back is to you, and in its claws is..._

_Nepeta._

_You run forward with a cry, and smack right into an invisible barrier. You place your hands out, feeling them flatten against the unseen cage, crying out to your little sister, screaming for her to run, to fight._

_Nepeta turns her head towards you, her dark hair matted with forest-colored blood. Her eyes are wide and fearful, tears mixed with blood dripping down. The monster snarls, grabbing both of her arms._

_You scream, pounding more on the invisible barrier. Your sister is screeching with pain. You need to help her, but you can't move._

_You hear the sound of ripping flesh. Green spatters you despite the barrier, the smell stinging your nose, your eyes wide as the torn-in-half Nepeta drops to the floor, one of her cat-ear shaped horns rolling towards you with bits of flesh still attached. Then the monster turns for you._

"NEPETA!" you cry. You wake from your dream, shaking and gasping for air. You scramble out of bed, clumsily jabbing a button. The lights come on, and you hiss at the brightness, but it helps clear your head.

You stand for a long moment. You're unaware of tears dribbling down your cheeks onto the floor. You pull on a robe, glancing at the clock which reads 3 AM, then leave your room.

You head up to the roof. You've never been up there, but Katniss says that it's really calming and clear. You decide now to test this.

When you're on the roof, you walk over to the edge, staring down at the road below. You can end it right then and there, but you have a family to get back too. Plus, Katniss mentioned something about a force-field preventing tributes from killing themselves. You wrinkle your nose, shaking your head.

You're very faintly aware of a faint tinkling sound, and the door opening and closing. You glance over your shoulder, watching Katniss as she joins you at the edge of the roof.

"Can't sleep?" she asks after a moment of silence. You shake your head.

"Nightmares," you reply quietly. Katniss looks at you, concern drawn upon her face.

"You're crying," she points out. You blush, wiping the tears away with quiet swears. Katniss is smiling.

"Don't worry, I don't think you're weak or a baby or anything. Do you want to talk about it?" she asks. You shake your head. "Alright, if you say so. You need to get back to sleep, get all the rest you can."

You give her a startled look. She smiles at you knowingly. "It's alright. Come with me," she says, and she exits the roof. You watch her back for a moment, before following. You had nothing better to do anyways.

The two of you head to a room that looks like something that a doctor would work in. There's a bed with white paper on it, and the room stinks of disinfectants. There's a man in a white lab coat, with pea-colored hair. He looks up in surprise as you and Katniss enter.

"Ms. Everdeen and Mr. Vantas. What can I do for you?" he asks with a pleasant smile. Katniss returns it, but you think it doesn't look sincere to you.

"Karkat needs some dreamless sleep pills," says Katniss. The pharmacist eyes you as you shift, before nodding and disappearing into a door you missed before. He returns quickly with a bottle of pills, which he hands to you.

You and Katniss leave, and she escorts you back to your room. "Take one of those and you won't have any dreams," she says, ruffling your hair, much to your displeasure. "You need your rest, Karkat." Then she leaves.

You're left standing in the dark hallway. You examine the bottle of white pill capsules nervously, before shrugging. You enter your room, taking one of the pills with water to wash it down. Drowsiness hits you almost instantly, and you collapse onto your bed. No nightmares plague your mind.

/

You wake to the sharp rapping of Effie Trinket's knuckles against the door. You groan, rolling onto your stomach and burying your face in your pillow.

"Up, up, up! It's going to be a big, big, big day!" you hear. You chuck your pillow at the door in retort. Growling, you drag yourself out of bed. Then you remember tomorrow are your interviews.

You take a quick shower. This time, you're more mindful about which buttons you press. After you dress in the traditional outfit, you head down to the dining room. Vriska, Katniss, Effie, and Haymitch are already there.

You load a plate with food, flopping unceremoniously into a chair and digging in. Effie watches you with contempt, and Katniss offers you a pleasant smile.

"Great. Now that we're all here, we can begin. Since both of your personalities are so different, Vriska, Karkat, we'll be coaching you separately," Haymitch says. You nod, watching him as he sips at a glass of wine.

"Effie will be teaching you presentation, while Katniss and I coach you. Katniss, you'll coach Karkat, I'll coach Vriska," says Haymitch. "Vriska, you'll start with Effie. That means Karkat will work on content with Katniss. We'll switch in a couple of hours," says Haymitch. Everyone nods, before breaking off. Katniss directs you to a sitting room.

You two sit across from each other. Katniss is staring at you absently, her arms crossed. Then she puffs. "I think I already know what angle to go at. Fierce, obviously. I don't think you'd be very good at being aloof, or flirtatious," Katniss says, tapping her chin. You stare at her blankly.

Katniss catches your stare and quirks an eyebrow. "Because, y'know, you got one of the top training scores, and you gained this mysterious air about you with the smoke theme this year. You've already appealed to the Gamemakers, and now you need to appeal to the-"

"Audience, I fucking know. I've seen past Hunger Games, Katniss, I'm not too terribly unaware of how it goes," you snap. Katniss gives you a look, then smiles.

"Yes, that's a good aim. Be sarcastic, hostile. You're already like that naturally. Be witty," she says. You scowl and roll your eyes.

Katniss plays interviewer, and you fire off any answer that comes your way, unless you think that's too personal or something. After a few questions, she's pursing her lips.

"You play the hostile part too well. It makes you seem like a complete and total unfeeling jerk," she says. Your eyebrow twitches.

"I'm not always like this. Like around people I actually care about. Christ, I'm not a total asshat," you huff, sitting back in your chair and crossing your arms. Katniss sighs.

"I know it's unfair. I know it seems like the Capitol is treating you like some kind of dog, because actually, that's exactly what they're doing," she says gently. You turn back to her, scowling. "But your ability to gain sponsors can be life and death in the arena. You need to seem appealing. Let's try again."

You continue for the next half-hour, and Katniss is beginning to look pleased. She's actually laughed at a few of your answers. Then Haymitch pokes his head in, and you're handed over to Effie.

Effie watches you with pursed lips. "Well, I see the problem here. You can't stop slouching. You need to sit up straight, because we can't have you pass off as a slob," Effie says. You growl at her.

After an hour of walking around so that you wouldn't slouch, of practicing your smile so you wouldn't glower at people and make them feel uncomfortable, and attempting to smooth down your ruffled hair, Effie looks like she wants to rip off her pink wig and strangle you with it.

After that, it comes the posture, again. She tries to get you to sit up straighter, to make eye contact with the interviewer, and to not growl under your breath all the time. Also, you have a problem with raising your voice, which she points out after you yelled at her to leave your 'God fucking damned hair alone'.

Five minutes left, and Effie looks more worn out than you are. "That's about as much as I can do, dear. Just try and not pass off as too sullen or hostile." she groans. You roll your eyes at her.

You head down to dinner after the lessons are over. You load your plate with delicacies, like a spicy soup with tiny green onions and pieces of juicy pork and potatoes in it, cookies that are sprinkled with white sugar, and rolls which you dip in the soup.

Vriska seems pleased about her interview. She won't stop prattling on and on about how the audience will love her.

"We're going for a cocky and sexy angle. The audience will absolutely be crawling over my feet to be able to sponsor me," she smirks.

"Hey Vriska, wanna know something? You've been voted the mayor of 'I don't give two flying fucks', and the museum of 'shut the fuck up' has just opened in your town," you snap, slamming your fork down. Vriska, in all her maturity, glares at you and sticks out her tongue. Haymitch shakes his head as the two of you stare each other down, before you get up and abscond to your room.

Once there, you slam the door loudly behind you. You collapse onto your bed, beating your face into your pillow.

After a while, you glance at the clock beside your bed and sigh. You strip down to your underwear, taking one of those dreamless sleep pills, and conking out immediately.

Oh, how you hated your life.

/

The next day is for Cinna and Portia. Your lessons with Effie and Haymitch and Katniss are thankfully over.

Your prep team is hovering over you the moment you wake. They work on you all morning and most of the afternoon. They make your skin smooth so that it glows, make you feel more squeaky-clean than ever, and attempt to tackle your hair for the third time. After that, they end up painting your lips black, and covering your skin in a powder that sparkles silver in the light.

Then Portia comes in with your outfit, but it's covered, so you can't see it. She smiles at you. "Close your eyes," she says. You glare at her, but comply.

She slips a shirt over your head, then helps you fit your pants on. A jacket comes on after. She turns you, and gives you the okay to open your eyes.

You stare at the outfit Portia has made. It's stunning. It's a shade of gray, that turns black at the shoulders and begins to whiten until your white shoes. Swirling designs course all along the soft fabric. With every subtle movement, it seems the smoky designs are swirling around you.

You nod your satisfaction. Portia grins at you, adjusting your hair a little bit, before she slips a choker around your neck that has a glowing orange stone on the middle.

"A black exterior, but the flame which fuels you burns bright," says Portia dreamily. You stare at her oddly. Your prep team is practically bouncing off the walls in excitement.

"I take it you're ready for the interview then?" Portia says with a grin. You shrug absently.

"Effie says I have the etiquette of a pile of rabbit shit and Katniss says I'm too much of an asshat for my own good, but I guess I can scrape by," you say with a shrug. Portia helps lift your feelings by laughing.

"I think you'll do fine, Karkat. Just go with what feels right."

Too soon it's time to go. The interviews are held on a stage in front of the Training Center. You lick your black-stained lips nervously. Portia tries to console you with a smile, but it does little to help you now.

You leave your room, regrouping with the others. Cinna worked well, making Vriska look stunning in a flowy dress with the same swirls as you. She gives you a smirk, and she, her prep team, Cinna, Portia, your prep team, Katniss, Effie, and Haymitch all head to the interviews.

When the elevator doors open, you can see many other tributes are already moving. You'll all sit in an arch for the interviews, of course, going in order by District number. You'll be last, since the girls go first for the interviews. Not your most ideal set-up, because you'll have to sit through everyone else's interviews first.

Right before you all begin to file onto the stage, Haymitch comes up behind you. "Remember, you're still a happy pair," he growls. You send his back a glare as he moves away.

You all file in and take your seats. Vriska sitting next to you looks calm, no nervous showing. You glare at her, and turn your attention to the stage as the interviewer comes up.

Although evening is falling, the City Circle is brighter than a summer's day. There's an elevated stand for the prestigious guests, with the stylists commanding the front row. The cameras will turn to them when the audience is admiring their work. A large balcony to the right of the building is reserved for the Gamemakers. Television crews have claimed most of the other balconies, but the City Circle and most of the avenues surrounding it have been crammed with people, no room to sit. Every single home in Panem will have their televisions on and watching.

Caesar Flickman, the man who has hosted the interviews for more than forty years, jumps onto the stage. He looks exactly the same that he did ten, twenty, thirty, forty years ago, and it's a bit creepy. His hair is a light lavender, and his eyes and lips are the same color. He wears a midnight blue suit dotted with light bulbs that look like twinkling stars.

Caesar tells a few jokes to warm up the audience, then gets down to business. The red-headed girl from District 1 steps up to stage and shakes hands with Caesar, wearing a sky blue gown that completely reveals her back and one of her legs.

You watch the interviews with utter boredom. The interviews last only three minutes each, before a buzzer sounds and the next tribute steps up.

Everyone seems to be going for some kind of angle. Eridan is arrogant, which isn't much different from his usual personality. Kanaya is graceful and smart. Feferi is friendly and humble. Gamzee... You don't know what to think about Gamzee's interview.

Vriska finally finishes her interview, and it's your turn. You lick your lips nervously, standing up tall and shaking hands with Caesar. You sit in the chair and Caesar sits across from you. You feel like there are thousands of little butterflies in your stomach.

"So, Karkat. The Capitol must be very different from District 12. How is it?" Caesar starts. You glance at him.

"Well, the Capitol is very show-y and shit, but you could call it pretty awe inspiring. Even though your foods definitely aren't as good as what we make back at District 12," you reply. Caesar laughs.

"No, no, I'd assume not. Do you have any family back home?" Caesar asks. You think about what Katniss said yesterday. You allow a very faint, but genuine smile to break your mask of indifference.

"Yes. There's my younger sister, Nepeta. My older sister, Terezi, is blind, and my oldest brother, Sollux is a bigger asshat than I am," you say. The audience chortles. "But they're my family. I love them more than anything, no matter how fucking agitating they may be." Caesar smiles.

"That's wonderful. What did you think about the outfit for your opening ceremonies?" Caesar asks.

"After I got over my fear of suffocating to death?" you snort. Caesar laughs again, and nods. "I won't lie, it was pretty fucking stunning." Short, but to the point.

"Right you are, there. So about your score for the training? Care to give us a hint in that area?" asks Caesar.

"Nope. I can't say a word about it," you say. Caesar groans comically.

"How cruel you are, Karkat! One last question. About your fellow tributes, what do you think of them?" Caesar asks. You glance at the arch of tributes for a second, before turning back to Caesar.

"They're all fucking crazy and unique. But we're all human here, no matter how many braincells we've lost in the past," you say. "They'll make very tough competition."

Just then, the buzzer sounds. Caeser leaps to his feet, making you pause in getting up, before you slowly join him in standing.

"Karkat Vantas, everybody!" he says. The audience cheers, and then the show is over. You meet up with Vriska and the District 12 crew, not before passing Gamzee Makara.

"That was amazing, brother. I'll be seeing you in the arena," he says quietly to you. You stare at him oddly, at that smirk upon his face, before your team herds you off.

You'll never understand Gamzee Makara.

/

**Bleh. The interview sucked balls. I hope that anyone who writes something like this doesn't have to go through that torture. Curse you and your odd mind, Karkat Vantas! *fistshake***

**Two updates in one day? Starpelt u crayzah gurl!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hell. Yes.**

**KK's goin' into the arena soon, my lovelies. After that, the chapters will (maybe) be (hopefully) longer.**

**Because, ya. Anyways, I'm having thoughts about pairing Karkat and Gamzee up, but I ship SolKar more...**

/

You sit in the dining room, though you don't have much of an appetite. Tomorrow the games will begin, and you feel as if you're going to throw up. You're pleased to see that Vriska appears to be in the same state.

After dinner, you watch a replay of the interviews. You feel the intense urge to facepalm. You seem like a douchebag, but at least you don't seem like an incoherent fuck, like Gamzee, who took up a minute of his interview with a rant about miracles.

The anthem plays and the television goes dark. The room is silent, which makes you uncomfortable. You will be waken tomorrow morning at dawn to prepare for the games, even though they don't start until ten. But you need an early start, since it's unpredictable where the arena is set, and how long it would take to get there.

Today would be your last day with Effie, Katniss, and Haymitch, because then they would go to the Games Headquarters, signing you up for sponsors, working out strategies for how to get your gifts to you. Portia and Cinna will travel with you to the very last spot.

Effie shakes your hand. She looks tearful, saying how you were a pleasure to work with, though a small part of you doubts that. She leaves the room wiping her eyes.

Katniss and Haymitch turn to you and Vriska suddenly. "Listen up, you two. When the gong sounds, don't get caught up in that bloodbath at the Cornucopia. Put as much distance as possible between you and the others," says Haymitch

"And head straight for a source of water," Katniss interjects. You nod.

"What do we do after that?" Vriska asks. You snort.

"That was the stupidest question in the history of stupid questions, con-grat-u-fucking-lations," you say. "There's no other advice they can give us. Just stay alive."

The four of you part. You and Vriska head to your respective rooms, and you collapse onto your bed, mind buzzing fitfully.

You wonder what kind of hellhole they'll throw you into. A swamp? A jungle? A barren wasteland? You pray for trees, which will provide you with cover and food. You shift restlessly in bed, and reach for your bottle of dreamless sleep pills. You take one, and lay back, waiting for the side effects of drowsiness to kick in.

You finally fall asleep.

/

Portia wakes you up before dawn. You stumble around in a slight daze, as she gives you a simple black shirt and pants to wear. Your final preparations will be done in the catacombs beneath the arena. A hovercraft appears out of thin air, and a ladder descends. You step onto it, and you're immediately frozen to it. You're not very surprised, this is typical of the Capitol.

You're slowly raised into the air, into the safety of the hovercraft, but the ladder doesn't release you. A woman in a white lab coat baring a syringe approaches you.

"This is a tracker, Karkat. The stiller you are, the more efficiently I can place it," she says.

"Right, like I can fucking move anyways," you retort sharply, wincing as the syringe breaks your skin and the tracker is injected. Then the ladder releases you.

The woman disappears, and Portia is lifted onto the roof with you. An Avox boy comes and directs you to a room where your breakfast is laid out. Your appetite is close to nonexistant, but you force yourself to eat some toast anyways. You become distracted as you stare out a window, watching the Capitol soar by and be replaced with wilderness.

The ride lasts about a half hour before the windows black out, suggesting that you're nearing the arena. The hovercraft lands, and you and Portia step onto the ladder again, only this time you're lowered into a tube that leads underground, into the catacombs beneath the arena. You follow instructions to your destination, a chamber for your preparation. It's called the Launch Room in the Capitol, but everyone in the Districts refer to it as the Stockyard, a place where animals go before slaughter.

Everything is new. You will be the first and only tribute to use this launch room. After this, it's preserved, for Capitol members to come and watch replays of the Games, to visit the sites, and even act out deaths.

You struggle to keep your breakfast down as you shower and clean your teeth. Your clothes arrive, the same for every district. A dark green shirt with sleeves down to your elbows, simple tawny pants, a sturdy belt, a dark colored hooded jacket, and rubber soled boots that lace up to your knees. These clothes are even more form-fitting than those you wore for training. You feel comfortable in them.

Then Portia draws out your Cancer symbol and crab-claw from her pocket with a flourish. In your nervousness, you had completely forgotten about it. She clips it onto your belt loop with a smile.

"Y'know, some of your fellow tributes had similar District tokens as you, all with the sign of a Zodiac and with a part of the corresponding animal. Aquarius, Pisces, Capricorn, Scorpio, Virgo, Sagittarius, Aries, and Cancer," Portia says. You look at her in surprise. "Odd, isn't it?"

You blink, and nod. You don't trust yourself to not barf back up your breakfast if you open your mouth.

"Okay. Move around a bit. See if it all fits right," Portia says. You get up, not in the mood to make a snarky comment, and run in a circle with a faint nod. Portia looks at you with pity.

"Here, drink some water. A lot of water," she says, handing you a cup. You gulp at the water, grateful for the hydration, and begin to feel a bit better.

You and Portia sit on the couch in silence. You find yourself licking your lips and sipping at the water nervously, tracing the faint bump beneath your skin where the tracker is.

"Do you want to talk, Karkat?" Portia asks quietly. You shake your head. Portia purses her lips, and takes one of your hands in hers. You attempt to glare at her, but you just can't. You're too grateful for her support, even if she is from the Capitol. She and Cinna are the most human out of all of them.

You sit like that for a long time, until a pleasant female voice announces it's almost time to go. You get to your feet, thankful for Portia's hand, otherwise you would have fallen over. You stand on the circular metal plate, staring at her.

"Remember what your mentors said. Run, head straight for water. You'll do fine," Portia says. You blink at her.

She smiles, and kisses your forehead. "You are smoke. You can escape from your enemies' grasps and disappear. You are suffocating, but a fiery ember burns within. Good luck, Karkat Vantas," she whispers, and steps back, as a glass cylinder falls around you, breaking your handhold, cutting you off from your reply. Portia taps her fingers under your chin. Head high.

You allow yourself to smile at her. You lift your chin up high and stand up straight as the plate begins to rise and you ascend. You count exactly seventeen and a half seconds, before you reach the surface.

The sunlight blinds you for a split second, and you blink rapidly, adjusting. You're aware of a heavy wind, carried with the smell of plants and trees.

Then you hear the legendary announcer, Claudius Templesmith, as his voice booms around you.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the eightieth Hunger Games begin!"

/

…

You're required to stand on your metal circles for sixty seconds until the gong sounds. If you so much as take one little dainty tip-toe step before them, bombs will go off and blast you to kingdom come. You're standing between a burly boy you think is from District 6, and Feferi. You glance at her, and for a split second cherry red meets magenta, before the both of you look away. Was that sadness you saw in her gaze? Sadness that she would have to kill you, an acquaintance?

You stare at the golden Cornucopia, glinting in the bright sunlight. At your feet is a sheet of plastic, the supplies getting more and more valuable as they get closer to the mouth of the Cornucopia. You can see a tent there. Almost instantly, your eyes lock onto two scarlet sickles. You don't give a shit what your mentors say, you want them, they're obviously meant for you.

You're tense, ready to spring. The gong sounds. You're faster than everyone. You run forward, straight for the sickles. You snatch them up, twisting them in your hands.

A shadow falls around you and you whip around. The giant boy from District 7 is looming over you, a dangerous spiked mace in his hands. It comes down upon you, but stops inches from your face. You can see the tip of what appears to be a harpoon jutting from his stomach. He's kicked off, and you recognize Eridan.

"You're fuckin' welcome! Now-w get the fuck out of here!" he snaps. You don't have time to thank him, as he turns around and fires a bloodied harpoon at the girl from District 8, who's locked in combat with Feferi. You hook the straps of a medium-sized black backpack with one of your sickles, and you're about to abscond, when you see something.

Juniper is being snuck up upon by the District 3 tribute. You snarl, and leap over, hooking him right around the throat with your right sickle, throwing him down to the ground. You can see a deep, gaping wound in his neck, and you don't care.

"Don't just fucking stand there, you fucking idiot! Go!" you snap. You immediately run for the forest, not watching to see if Juniper left or not.

You run for a few minutes. Soon you slow down to a jog, but you don't stop, determined to put as much distance between the rest and you. You finally stop, panting, and examine your spoils, that cost the life of one of the tributes from Districts 3 and 7. The thought makes you fall to your knees, shaking. You can still see the blood that was beginning to dry on one of your sickles. Feeling like you're about to vomit, you press a convenient button on both of them, and the blade straightens out and disappears into the handle. You slip the compact sickles into your pocket, shuddering.

You open the black backpack, dumping out the contents. A sleeping bag, flint and steel, a packet of beef jerky and dried fruits, and a large canteen of water.

You thank the merciful messiahs Gamzee is hellbent on believing in, and take delicate sips of your water. You would have to ration it until you found a suitable water source.

You climb to your feet slowly, walking once more. The trees around you are oak, and the

ground seems to slant slightly downwards, making the goings a bit easier. You keep your eyes and ears alert for any sign of water, but it never comes. Luckily you have your canteen.

Gradually the trees thicken. You're worried that one of the tributes managed to follow you, but you could deal with them easily. You allow your thoughts to mill about what happened at the Cornucopia.

Why did Eridan save you like that? For some reason, you thought he hated you, and the feelings were quite mutual. He could have just stood by and let the boy from District 7 beat you to death, but he didn't. You reflect on what Portia said in the catacombs, how you all have tokens with the sign of the Zodiac.

You sigh, shaking your head. All this pondering was beginning to give you a headache. You wonder if Juniper got away, or if your kindness had gone to waste. You've been walking for so long that the sun is already beginning to sink behind the trees. You grumble under your breath, running a hand through your hair. You guess you can climb up a tree, but you don't want to fall down in your sleep.

You finally decide on roosting up in a tree. You choose a sturdy-looking oak, and begin climbing. By the time you pull yourself up to a forked branch that looks strong enough to hold your weight the sun has already gone down. You through your sleeping bag onto it and wriggle in precariously, strapping yourself in with your belt in case you decide to roll over in your sleep.

You remember to look up, as the faces from the bloodbath earlier at the Cornucopia flash in the sky above your head. You can make out the boy from District 7, the boy from District 3, both tributes from District 9, the girl from District 10, and you're sad to see, Rose. At least you didn't have to kill her.

That's six down already, with only 18 more to go. You fall into such a fitful slumber that not even nightmares are able to plague your mind.

/

Your eyes suddenly snap open. You can hear the crackling of fire and voices. You swear mentally, peeking through the branches. It's still so dark, but the glow of the fire helps.

"Any sign of any other tributes?" You identify the voice as the girl from District 1, Sheila.

"Nope. I'm really eager to find the midget, Vantas. How he got a ten in training, I don't know," replies another voice. That would be Abel, also from District 1.

"Please, I don't think we should waste our efforts with him." You snarl under your breath. Equius. You can't help but feel slightly betrayed, even if he didn't associate with you much.

"W-well, I agree. W-we should just leav-ve V-vantas for someone else. He isn't really w-worth the effort." You feel betrayal really spark this time. Of course Eridan was with the Careers.

"Don't talk, fish boy. I saw you save his life. We should just kill you now for that," snarls Sheila.

"That's not necessary, Sheila," you hear Eridan say. He sounds panicked. You feel satisfaction at that fact.

"Don't give me that shit, Eridan," snarls Abel. You wriggle fruitlessly in your sleeping bag. You manage to unhook it and slip out as quietly as you possibly can, rolling it back up and stuffing it into your backpack. You slowly descend, listening closely.

"W-what are you doin'? Back the fuck up," you hear Eridan snarl. You're low enough were you can see what's happening. Abel smacks Eridan's harpoon out of his hands, and it clutters to the floor. You're half-tempted to just leave him and abscond away from the Careers, but you do owe him.

"Say goodbye, fish boy," you hear Abel snarl. You hit the ground silently, and take out your sickles.

"Hey, fucker," you call, standing up tall. You see the other four whip around in surprise, staring at you. "I didn't get to properly thank your melodramatic ass earlier, did I? Well, I guess now is the time," you say, and you run forward, slamming your elbow into Abel's exposed side.

You're aware of him swearing his mouth off. You snatch up Eridan's harpoon and toss it to him.

"Let's get the fuck out of here," you snap, and you quickly abscond. Eridan hot on your heels.

"I didn't need your fuckin' help," you hear. You don't look back, as you're aware that the other tributes are hot on your trail. "You should hav-ve just stayed in your tree. I could hav-ve stopped them," he snaps. You roll your eyes.

"Here," you snap, and you dive into a dense thicket. Eridan dives in behind you. You hear the Careers thunder past.

You wait five minutes after they travel out of earshot, before picking yourself up. Eridan stumbles clumsily out of the bushes after you. You turn towards him, ready to tell him off for being loud, when you look down and see his harpoon aimed right for your heart.

"W-what the hell are you tryin' to pull? I know-w I sav-ved your life back at the Cornucopia, but I didn't expect you to return the fav-vor," he snarls. You roll your eyes, roughly pushing the tip of his harpoon away.

"You're fucking grateful. Stop being so pissy and accept it. I'm not the kind of person to sit by and just let someone who helped me die," you growl. "By the way, what possessed you to save my life?" you snap.

Eridan stares at you thoughtfully. "Honestly, I hav-ve no fuckin' idea. It w-was just an impulse. Something nagged at me to sav-ve your life," he says with a shrug. "It w-was like that w-with Fef and Kan, too. I just couldn't let them die, for some reason."

You stare at him disbelievingly, then sigh. "Right. Well, I don't trust you enough not to fucking stab me in my sleep with your giant toothpick, so this is where we part. Good luck, asshat," you say, and turn, stomping off in the opposite direction. You can hear Eridan behind you.

"Hey- Kar, w-wait!" he calls. He catches up to you, and you glare at him.

"Leave me the fuck alone, you shit-stain. I'm not in the mood," you growl. Hurt appears for

a split second in his purple eyes, before it disappears.

"W-well, you're already stuck w-with me. Fuckin' deal w-with it, you're the one who sav-ved my life," he says with a smirk. You growl under your breath.

"Fucking fuck, fine. Just stay quiet, alright?" you snarl, resuming your stomping, only

much angrier than before. You're faintly aware of Eridan following you.

The two of you walk in silence. Dawn breaks, the birds start singing, and you feel very shitty and irritable. A cannon suddenly fires, scaring the piss out of you and Eridan.

"W-woah! Who do you think died?" Eridan asks curiously. You shrug.

"Hopefully no one we know," you mutter beneath your breath, running a hand through your hair.

You and Eridan have a breakfast of beef jerky. You're reluctant, but you end up sharing your canteen.

"If this is going to happen, we need to look out for water," you say. Eridan blinks.

"There's a waterfall off east. We can go there," he says with a shrug. You return the shrug, deciding to trust his judgement and heading off in said direction.

By the time you reach the waterfall, it's about noon. One other cannon had fired during your trek. You'll find out at the end of the day who died.

The waterfall is beautiful. The water cascades downwards in a deafening roar, spraying you and Eridan with fresh water. You fill up your canteen at the pool collecting below it, drinking up happily.

You feel Eridan tap your shoulder, and you turn and glare at him. "What the fuck is it, assha-"

You stop, locking your eyes upon the indigo ones that stare lazily back at you. It's Gamzee.

/

**Enter: Gamzee**

**I'm sorry for killing off Rose Dx *sobs and dodges tomatoes* Don't hurt me!**

**I'm also sorry for the cliff-hanger. I'm working on it, I'm working on it.**

**Eridan is really easy to write, just wanna say that.**


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